


That Wiggle in the Walk

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Series: Bubblegum [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Plug, BDSM themes, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Dress Up, Established Relationship, Feminization, Genderfuck, Human Stiles Stilinski, Husbands, Kink, M/M, Not Beta Read, Off Screen Kink Negotiation, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prior Consent, References to Knotting, Role Reversal, Songfic, Werewolf Derek Hale, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9627425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: He was really hoping he’d get to have Derek’s knot two or three times before the night was over, but he can have that just about any night of the week. This though, this is special.♠♠♠This work is un-beta'd.Please heed the tags: there is further explanation regarding the feminization, kink-negotiation, and genderfuck in the notes.





	

Stiles sighs as he steps out of the elevator onto their floor. He can’t actually smell home the way that Derek can, not out here in the hallway anyway, but he fills his lungs and lets himself imagine he can.

His key sticks, as it usually does, but he wins after a few jiggles, as he usually does. He slips off his shoes and kick-pushes them to the wall. He smiles and dumps his bag on the floor just inside the door. It’s Friday, and no matter how much work he has to do for next week at the office, he’s not allowed to do it on a Friday. He leans his shoulder against the wall as he pulls his wallet and things of his pockets. He flicks his phone to silent and plugs it in next to Derek’s; they won’t look at them until tomorrow morning. They keep their dinosaur of a land-line so that they can be contacted in emergencies.

It takes Stiles half a second after that to realize what he can hear playing in the kitchen. Buddy Holly is singing about going faster than a roller coaster, and just like that, Stiles is hard and wet. He can admit to himself, readily, that he was looking forward to pizza, beer, and a good hard dicking. And, as he’s home a little earlier than usual, was really hoping he’d get to have Derek’s knot two or three times before the night was over. But he can have that—well maybe not that many thats, but still—just about any night of the week. This though, this is special.

Buddy has moved on to raving on about a crazy feeling, and, well, he’s kinda right.

Stiles steps over to where Derek’s jacket is hanging on the wall, and thanks the office gods that Casual Friday is still limited to t-shirts without slogans on them so he can at least vaguely look the part. He tucks his light gray t-shirt into his jeans, shrugs off his plaid shirt to a puddle on the floor, and slips on Derek’s leather. It’s too big, but that’s no mind.

Stiles takes the few extra steps he needs to see into the living area of their apartment and catches his breath, just like he always should.

Derek’s sitting at their kitchen counter. He’s side on, with his legs crossed under him, one twined around the leg of the stool he's sitting on. He’s sucking on straw that’s sticking out of a metal milkshake cup that’s white with condensation. It matches the color of the bobby socks that Derek has folded down over his ankles and slipped inside his pink and red leather bowling shoes. Stiles makes himself not-see Derek’s hairy legs. They’d tried shaving them once, for this. They’d both loved the process, and the result, especially while they’d been fucking, but the weeks after had been hell, even on Derek’s werewolf skin, and they’d decided not to do it again.

Stiles focuses instead on Derek’s dark-pink petticoat. It’s one of those sticky-outie ones that’s made with a kind of fine netting. It’s about an inch longer that his actual skirt, so it would be on full display even if he stood up straight. The skirt Derek’s wearing over it is a paler, candy pink, just like you’d think a poodle skirt would be. In place of the titular canine it has a big, yellow butterfly sown near the hem, with a handful of smaller ones going up diagonally across its front. Stiles lets his eyes follow the pattern up to Derek’s waist and the soft white sweater that’s tucked into it. The top is covered with its matching cardigan.

Derek’s wearing a dark pink ribbon around his head, flat on the top and then tied at the nape of his neck in a messy bow. He looks up and bats his made-up lashes at Stiles, and purses his painted lips tighter around the straw he's got between them and sucks until his cheeks hollow out.

Stiles swallows and says, “Hey, kitten. Sorry I’m late. Boss held me back for sassing him out.”

Derek lets the straw go and flicks his tongue out, not even a quarter of an inch, then rolls his lips over each other. “That’s okay, you’re here now. The diner’s kitchen closed about ten minutes ago, though.”

And, yeah, Stiles can go there, straight to the down and dirty. “No problemo, kitten. I had a big lunch. I hope you ate, ‘cause you know you’re gonna need your strength, right?” He slides up and leans over, pressing his mouth against Derek’s and feeling him melt into the touch. He stays put, speaking the words against red lipstick. “I like your glad-rags, baby cakes, you get them new today?”

“My friends and I went shopping last weekend, special, in case I was lucky enough to find myself a date.” He bats his lashes again, looking down, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out forever.”

Stiles leans back and puts his hand out, runs a finger down the side of Derek’s face where he’s made an effort to get his hair to form a kiss curl in front of his ear. Stiles traces the shape and says, “Well, I’m glad I finally asked. I knew you were a pretty thing, but I don’t know that I’ve seen you this dolled up before.” He moves his finger down Derek’s neck and along the little bit of bare shoulder before he slips it between the sweater and the cardigan. “This is real nice, soft, like you, kitten.”

Stiles leans back in again for another brushed kiss. Then he nips at the corner of Derek’s mouth, and rubs their cheeks together. Derek’s so smooth he must have finished shaving less than an hour ago. “So soft.” Stiles pulls back a little, eyes wide open, and kisses Derek with his lips slightly parted this time, holding his gaze as he does. “So pretty and soft.”

Derek whimpers.

“You like that, baby cakes? You like it when a big, strong boy like me tells you how sweet you are?” Stiles runs his hands down Derek’s front and lands them on his waist, pulling Derek forward a little on the stool. The poodle skirt is wide enough, full enough, to almost hide that Derek’s big alpha cock is hard underneath it. “It’s only the truth, though, kitten.”

“No one but you calls me pretty, though.” Derek’s voice has moved a little higher now. It’s not a fake-girl tone, just lighter, brighter. “I like it when you call me pretty.”

“You wanna know what else I think is pretty?” Stiles moves one of his hands a little lower, letting it start to cup Derek’s hip. “I like the way you walk. I’ve seen you, out shopping with your girlfriends. I see the way you move and it makes me want to kiss you deep and see if I can get you to wiggle the same way for me here, now.”

Derek breathes out a hushed, “please,” and Stiles kisses him hard this time, pulling Derek closer and fucking his warm mouth as hard as can be. Derek puts his hands in Stiles hair and grips tight. The kiss is slick and hot and Derek rumbles in his chest and pushes his own tongue up and fucks right back inside of Stiles, giving as good as he gets.

Derek shifts on the seat as they kiss, rocking back and forth on the cheeks of his ass with every thrust of Stiles' tongue.

Stiles pulls back. “Kitten’s got claws, huh? I bet you’ll wiggle in all the right ways for me, won’t you baby cakes? Will you let me see you wiggle?” He tightens his hold on Derek’s hip, then drags his palms down and up the skirt, along the top of strong, hidden thighs. “Will you let me see what’s under this pretty dress? Will you let me feel? I bet you’re soaked for me already, hot and ready for me. Are you? Are you wet?”

Derek flushes, skin trying to match the color of his petticoats. “I am. I know a good girl shouldn’t be, but I am.”

Stiles draws his hand across Derek’s front this time, right across his rock-hard cock. “You’re ripe. Your hot little clit’s all swollen up for me. I bet I could tweak it just right and get you to come all in your panties.” Derek moans again, and his hips jerk forward, up off the stool. “Oh,” Stiles teases, “you like the sound of that, do you? Do you want me to tongue your clit through your panties?”

“Please, Stiles, please.”

Stiles licks up the side of Derek’s face now, wet and sloppy and keen. “Just like that, maybe that’s all it would take, one big wet line and you’ll be squirting all over my face and down my neck. Could I get you even more soaked than you are now? Make you so wet you stain my jeans even though I’ve only got them down far enough to get my cock out before I shove it into you?”

“Please make me, please.” Derek’s voice is shaking and he starts to stand, but Stiles pushes him back down and bends so he can pull Derek’s skirt up at the sides.

“I wanna taste you kitten, suck on your nice hard clit, yeah?”

Derek just nods, hands resting each side of Stiles’ head, sliding to his neck and Stiles gets to his knees.

Stiles pushes the skirt and petticoat higher. There’s so much material, but that’s part of the attraction. Stiles can lick at Derek, work on his giant alpha cock and Derek doesn’t have to see that that’s what’s there. Right now, for him, all there is is his flushed, swollen clit tight in his pretty panties.

Stiles grins wide and licks his lips. “Oh, baby cakes. You and your girlfriends didn’t just buy you a nice new sweater set, did they? These are fucking gorgeous.”

The lace is baby blue and stretched out across Derek’s cock. The panties seem to be made to take his size, although they haven’t stopped him from getting stiff. Stiles licks along the lines in the fabric that make a kind of pouch that’s perfect for keeping an alpha cock standing up straight and hard. Derek groans as Stiles laps a little lower, pressing his tongue against balls that are tucked up under Derek’s half-there knot, swollen and eager despite the confinement. “Oh, kitten, your clit tastes so good. I could do this all day.” He sits back on his haunches a bit and uses one finger to trail along the lace, dragging it up and down in rhythm to the oldies-rock’n’roll still playing on their stereo.

Derek’s cock spurts pre-come with every downward pass.

Stiles leans forward and sucks at it, and the head of Derek’s cock, through the pale blue flowers of the lace.

Derek gasps out, “Stiles, I’m close—”

Stiles leans back. “On second thoughts, baby cakes. I think I want in you, kitten. I want you clenching around my cock when you squirt.” He looks up and Derek already looks wrecked. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and he's been biting his knuckles, lipstick smeared across his cheek. “You’re always so pretty, and you’re gonna be even prettier when you come.”

“I want that, I want you in me, Stiles. I want you to fuck me so hard you make me cry.”

Stiles gets up and pulls Derek forward off of the stool. “Kitten’s got more than claws. I love it when a sweet thing like you says such dirty words.” They kiss again, tongues and teeth and spit. Then Stiles steps back and flips Derek around, crowding him up against the counter, lifting his hands and resting them against the edge. “Hold on to this for me, baby cakes, don’t want you to fall down when I fuck into you.”

Derek nods and grips the granite. “I’m wet for you. I’ve been wet all afternoon. I put my fingers inside myself waiting for our date.”

Stiles hikes the back of Derek’s skirt up and sees exactly what Derek’s been putting in himself. He can see that the lace underwear is apparently more like a jockstrap than a proper pair of panties. It doesn’t cover the base of what Derek has inside of him, open like a backwards pair of crotchless knickers. Stiles knows the plug Derek is wearing fills the alpha almost to the brim and that’s why he was rocking from cheek to cheek when they just started kissing. The plug is the biggest one that Derek’s alpha hole has been able take. He’s stretched out around it and glistening with lube.

“Even your hole is pretty, all wet and shiny for me.” Stiles undoes his jean and rucks his t-shirt up and presses his cotton-covered cock up against Derek’s skin. He holds Derek’s jacket back and ruts against the bare ass a few times and hears the way it makes Derek’s breathing hitch. “I’m gonna put my fingers in you first, sweet thing. I want you ready for my hard cock. I wouldn’t wanna hurt such a pretty ‘lil hole.”

Stiles presses his palms into Derek’s cheeks, then slides each thumb across and down the center of the crack. He moves his whole hands as he does so he can rub under the flare of the plug, against Derek’s pucker. Derek shivers and whines again. Stiles whispers, “you smell amazing, too, baby cakes. Like strawberry shortcake and summer.” He lifts one hand and tugs carefully on the plug, “relax for me kitten, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” It pulls free, and he puts it on the stool Derek was sitting on before.

Palm up, Stiles slides two fingers straight into Derek and curls them tight. He twists his hand back and forth and rubs along the inside of Derek’s ring.

Derek nudges back, straightening his arms a little and groaning out Stiles’ name.

“Yeah, kitten. Soon, I promise.” Stiles turns his hand palm down now, looking for what’s usually impossible to find in an alpha’s ass, unless he’s had a plug in it for a few hours to get it interested in the proceedings, of course. Then Derek moans, and his ass clenches and Stiles grins, rubbing back and forth now he’s found it. “Oh, baby cakes, you are gonna come so hard. I’m gonna make you squirt your girly come all over your pretty panties and up into your petticoats.”

“Fuck, Stiles. I need you inside of me, please, I want to come on your cock, I want you to fill me up.” He pushes back again, grinding his spot against the pads of Stiles’ fingers, letting out a whine each time it fully connects, “please, please, please.”

Stiles slicks his hand through some of the lube that Derek had inside him and coats his own cock. He shoves his boxer-briefs down, trying to ignore the fact that he’s leaking slick into the denim of his jeans. With a hand either side of Derek’s ass, he shifts everything until they’re perfectly lined up, pushes in, and starts fucking his husband with everything he can.

It’s so, so different to getting his cock sucked, still absolutely amazing, just different.

Stiles was thirteen when he’d gone through his first sticky, slick-sodden omega heat. If anyone had told him then that one day he’d not only have an alpha that liked to spend hours milking omega cock with his tongue, but also liked getting fucked in the ass by that same omega cock? Well, he’d have been down with that a hell of a lot easier than just the idea of getting pounded by a beta stick or alpha knot.

Not that he doesn’t appreciate the absolute glory of being taken by Derek’s knot, of course. It’s his favorite method of getting off, and always will be. He’d been with male and female betas, and one other alpha guy before Derek, but nothing, nothing gets him off the way he and his mate fit together like that.

Then again, this is pretty fucking awesome, too. It’s wet and messy and every plunge and squelch is wicked and divine.

Derek’s ass is absurdly tight, and so fucking hot inside. His mouth is too, but it’s always so much dirtier, naughtier like this. Stiles is an omega human and his cock is buried useless-balls-deep inside an alpha werewolf. The thought of it, and doing it, living the taboo, pulls him closer to the edge.

It’s harder to get off like this, for both of them. An alpha with nothing rubbing his cock but a tiny scrap of lace, an omega with nothing in the hole that’s dripping and aching to be filled. They can though, they both can.

Stiles keeps thrusting, and leans forward to kiss at Derek’s neck. He digs his fingers into Derek’s waist to give him more leverage, and tries to remember that his voice is something that will help Derek get there. “Fuck, kitten. You’re so tight. I bet you only let boys do this if they call you pretty, right?”

Derek leans his head back and gasps, gripping the counter even harder. “Only you, Stiles. You’re the only one who calls me pretty.” Every word is a chore, breathy and rasping. “You’re the only one who can get me wet and ripe. Breed me, please, Stiles. Fill me up.”

Stiles rhythm stutters, “I’m gonna fill you up kitten, pump you full of my cream. Are you ready to squirt for me? I wanna hear you howl when you mess up those lovely panties. I want you to come so hard you stain it and your petticoats and your pretty dress too.” Derek’s gasping in time with each push and Stiles can see his claws starting to pop. “Come for me, sweet thing. Let me feel you squirt, kitten." Derek closes his eyes tight and howls, ass clenching, back rigid and strong.

Stiles keeps moving and it’s building and he can feel that Derek’s still pulsing out, and he can imagine the way that looks inside the lace and tulle and then he’s coming too. His mind and body go hot and white inside, and his ass gapes and clenches, apparently still refusing to believe it’s not being filled.

A few moments later, Stiles sucks in a deep breath and finds the energy to move. He pulls back, and out. He lays a hand against Derek’s thigh. “I didn’t rip your petticoat this time. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or bad.”

Derek laughs low. “It gave me an excuse to go shopping when you did.” He turns, smoothing down his skirt as Stiles steps back and pulls up his jeans. “Thank you, love.” He leans forward and brushes a quick kiss against Stiles’ nose.

Stiles smiles and leans in for a proper kiss, bringing his hand up under Derek’s chin and stroking along his jawline. He pulls away and breathes in. “Always, anything.” Derek’s eyes are bright. “I, ah.” Stiles glances down. “Are those alpha panties? I meant it when I called them gorgeous, by the way. Feel free to buy more lace, in any design, at all times, for any kind of fucking or not fucking. I’ll hand wash them all if I have to.”

Derek snorts and brushes a hand across his front, over his skirt. “I found them online. They’re made of some super-strong material. I think regular lace would split against a knot? That’s what the website said, anyway.” He looks slightly skeptical, but then the worry fades away and he’s got a soft smile in its place.

“Either way, they’re awesome.” Stiles reaches down and takes Derek’s hand. “Do you want a shower? I can start something to eat?”

Derek shakes his head. “Order in. I think,” he looks sideways at the plug, but makes no move towards it, “I think I might stay like in this for a little while? I’ll just go put that away, take off the petticoat and fix my face.”

Stiles feels warm all the way to his toes. “I’ll order pizza now and pay for speedy delivery. We can watch a movie and make out on the sofa after.”

Derek’s smile fades to barely there and his wide eyes dart back and forth across Stiles’ face a moment. He lifts his hand and traces along the top of Stiles’ cheekbone with his thumb. “Love you,” he whispers. He turns and heads upstairs to get pretty again.

Stiles will say it back later, again, and again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The feminization in this fic is in no way demeaning or used for purposes of humiliation, it tilts to the other end of the spectrum, mostly involving a praise kink.  
> The negotiaton for this scene/kink should be read as a standing one between Derek and Stiles.  
> The genderfuck in this fic refers to Derek dressing in a manner that is not associated with him normally, and also in the fact that he and Stiles are role-playing being the opposite gender on the A/B/O spectrum. 
> 
> ♠♠♠
> 
> As writers we often use the A/B/O gender spectrum/designations to reflect or comment on gender and sexuality in the real world, but sometimes we fuck up when we do. If anything in this fic is offensive or triggering, it is not my intention. I’ve tried to tag as best I can; please let me know if I’ve missed anything.
> 
> Apologies for the lack of a beta; the people I rely on for such things have far busier lives than mine, and I am an impatient fucker.
> 
> This work is intended for the entertainment of those of legal age + Fanwork is done without intent to infringe copyright nor for the purpose of profit + Please do not post this fanwork to sites for published works
> 
> ♠♠♠
> 
> This piece of Bubblegum was inspired by **Chantilly Lace - The Big Bopper:[Lyrics](http://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/the_big_bopper/chantilly_lace.html), [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGXFVOc5I8Q).**
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://inkandblade.tumblr.com/).


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